


What To Expect With a Toddler

by Vatukka



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fluff, ManDadlorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vatukka/pseuds/Vatukka
Summary: When the Mandalorian decides to keep the child, he will find out that it will entail much more than just protecting the little womp rat.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 141





	What To Expect With a Toddler

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. 
> 
> I wrote this post about Baby Yoda being a baby crocodile in Tumblr and it became one of my most popular posts in the past few years. So I made a promise to write a fic about ManDADlorian and Yodadile (a friend of mine came up with that name and it has stuck with me), if it gained 500 notes before the end of the year, and that I would be using my experience with toddlers in it (I've been working with kids for over seven years, most of them with kids from ages one to three).
> 
> But I started to write this today, before it got the 500 notes but guess was being smart, since the freaking post has now over 500 notes. And I'm a woman of my word. 
> 
> This story has not been proofread. I apologize for any mistakes.

It started maybe a day or two after the fight against the raiders.

While the villagers were busy with cleaning out whatever remains of that night: taking down the barricades to repurpose them, cleaning out the krill ponds and fixing any broken huts. In short, they were doing their best to return things back to normal, and the Mandalorian and Cara did their part. They helped to drag the charred remains of the AT-ST out of the pond and salvage any usable parts and scrap metal.

All this time the Mandalorian never fully lost the child from his sight, a part of him always making sure just where the little womp rat was. Most of the time he was with Winta and her friends, playing with the krill or some toys the village kids had. Few times the Mandalorian caught a sight of them following the child as he hunted for frogs. The disbelieved chorus of ‘ewws’ and expressions of horror had the Mandalorian snorting quietly, when the child actually managed to catch and eat one.

Honestly, it was like they didn’t feed the kid enough.

Still, he turned to take the child, when a worried looking Winta carried him to the man. “Don’t look so smug,” the Mandalorian commented, helmet tilting, when the child only cooed, ears lifting a bit, before he started to suck the damp collar of the brown cloak.

Later that evening, when the Mandalorian as was preparing for the night, he paused at an odd sound coming from the crib. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the child squinting but not in the way he had during the mudhorn situation. The big ears twitched as the kid rolled around onto his stomach, pulling a blanket into his mouth.

“What is it?” the Mandalorian asked, stepping closer turn the kid back on his back and gently tugged the blanket out of his mouth. “You hungry?”

The brown eyes squinted again and the child waved at his hands up at him, frowning. It chirped but it was not the kind of chirp the Mandalorian was used to hearing from him. If he had to describe it, sounded like kid was displeased with something.

“You should watch what you eat,” he sighed, tucking the child in. The Mandalorian hesitated for a second before starting to gently trace the wrinkles on the tiny forehead with his fingers. “Sleep, womp rat. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Maybe it was the touch or maybe the kid’s just that tired but as the Mandalorian continued to stroke him, he quieted down enough to fall asleep. The man stood by the crib for a bit longer, hand idly moving as he watched the tiny face relax and listened to the soft, even breathing.

* * *

The kid doesn’t feel better in the morning.

The Mandalorian woke up to quiet whining and it took him a second to realise that it was the kid. Sitting up from the cot he’s been sleeping; he found the little one on his feet and – the man has to blink to make sure he was seeing things right – gnawing the edge of the crib.

“Hey, cut that out,” the Mandalorian told, frowning as he stood up.

The dark brown eyes flicked towards him the moment the man speaks and the kid let go of the wood, trilling and raising his arms towards the man. The Mandalorian tilted his helmet, when he spotted drool covering the kid’s jaw.

He picked the child up, using one corner of his blankets to wipe the drool away, but the second he touched the tiny chin, the kid trilled and started to squirm.

“What? Hold still,” the Mandalorian grumbled, confused, as he turned the kid in his hold and managed to dry the drool despite the kid’s best efforts to try to stop him. A wave of irritation washed over the man, making his jaw throb in dull pain before it’s gone. He stopped, confused at what had just happened.

The kid trilled again, squinting at him while his ears drooped.

“Let’s get you some breakfast, maybe that’ll cheer you up,” the man muttered, holding the kid against his shoulder as he exited the barn.

But the breakfast doesn’t work either; the Mandalorian watched, even more confused and now a bit worried, how the child kept refusing the food. He brought the spoon to the tiny mouth once again, only for the kid to whine and push it away. Usually the child was very calm and patient when being fed, so this wasn’t normal and the Mandalorian couldn’t help but notice that the kid has started to drool again.

Cara, who had been following the futile feeding attempt from the other side of the tiny porch, raised an eyebrow. “Is it okay?” the ex-shock trooper asked, leaning a bit closer to look at the child.

The kid turned his head towards the woman, cooing lightly, and the Mandalorian deftly used the distraction to his advantage. He couldn’t help but snort at the look of utter betrayal he gets from the child, when he managed to get a spoonful of mash into its mouth.

“He’s just being fussy. I think.”

Cara’s other eyebrow joins the first one. “Him fussy? We talking about the same kid here?” she pointed out, which made the Mandalorian pause.

Green ears lifted a little as the child swallowed and then the tiny hands were reaching for the spoon. Thinking he wanted more, the man brought it close, only to groan, when the kid pushed the wooden utensil away with more force than he was prepared, almost making the man drop the spoon.

“Fine, if you really don’t want it,” the Mandalorian muttered and he dropped the spoon into the bowl. “Don’t eat more frogs, you hear me?” he said to the little one, lifting him up from the chair and putting down.

The tiny head tilted upwards, ears down and if the Mandalorian didn’t know better, he would’ve described the expression on the child’s face as indignation, as if the man had just taken away his favorite toy. It was very unlike of the child and the Mandalorian couldn’t stop himself from shaking his head, amused. He wasn’t the only one, since there came a snort from next to them – Cara did nothing to hide her grin, when the Mandalorian glanced at her.

The kid was already toddling away, lured by the laughter of the other kids, when the man turned to back at it. The Mandalorian sighed, deep and weary, which only earned another laugh from the ex-shock trooper.

Even so, the kid’s odd behaviour didn’t stop to that:

The drooling continued, perhaps even became stronger and when it was lunch time, the kid was just as uncooperative as he had been in the morning. He ate a bit more, which was good, and drank some bone broth, although the Mandalorian had to wrestle the bowl away as the kid started to gnaw the edge once it was empty.

His ears also kept flickering as in irritation, even if he looked fine.

At one point in the afternoon the Mandalorian caught the sound of soft cries. He didn’t even hesitate, sharply turning towards the sound, walking a bit faster than he would’ve normally done.

He found the kid sitting on the ground, tiny hands rubbing ears and cheeks while Winta and the other kids tried their best to cheer him up. At the sight of the Mandalorian, the child’s cries got louder and it wasted no time waddling towards him.

The Mandalorian lifted him up, guessing he was just tired and took him to the barn. But once he tried to put the kid down, it clung to his armor, protesting quite loudly at being let go.

The Mandalorian looked down at the kid, confused. “What’s wrong?” he asked, fully aware the kid couldn’t really answer to him. He saw the scrunched up face and how the ears drooped in displeasure. Clearly something was bothering the child and not being able to tell the reason frustrated not only the man but the child as well.

The kid trilled, burying his face into the cool beskar armor. The Mandalorian watched him rub his cheeks against it and – the man grimaced in the privacy of his helmet – covered the silvery metal with spit. He hoped that was just something that would pass in time. Grabbing up a rag, the Mandalorian used it to wipe the armor as well as the kid’s face, which earned him a squawk and more squirming.

Once he had gotten rid most of the spit, the Mandalorian tried once again to put the kid into the crib but it proved to be rather difficult. The hold the kid had on the armor was surprisingly strong for someone so small, so the man had to be quite careful as he pried the little claws off and ignored the whimpering protests, when he finally managed to remove the kid.

“Hope you are not getting sick, womp rat,” the Mandalorian told the disgruntled child as he tried to swaddle the kid, which proved to be a challenge as the kid started to squirm the moment he was laid down. “Quit it,” the man said sternly, deft fingers tucking the wriggling bundle in place, “rest is good, if you are feeling unwell.”

The expression of distaste he got from the child had the man chuckling and he reached to stroke the tiny head.

“Yeah, I disliked being told to have a nap as a kid but they work. Trust me. Now, sleep.”

A soft coo was his reply as the kid started to mouth the edge of the blanket. The big, brown eyes were squinting up at the helmet, staring right into the Mandalorian’s eyes, which was a bit unnerving. It was like the child instinctively knew where to look at, despite the visor.

“Sleep,” he repeated, soft, and his hand continued to caress the kid.

And just like last night, the soothing touch seemed to do the trick. After few minutes of almost-glaring and quiet whines the kid’s eyes started to droop, his breathing evening out.

The Mandalorian stood by the crib until he was certain that the child was asleep. Only then did he remove his hand and stepped out of the barn.

**Author's Note:**

> So Yodadile was getting his molars, since those come later than front teeth, and we have seen those tiny teeth in the series. Needless to say, getting your molars isn't all that fun, comes with all sorts of things. I used to take care of this kid, who had three molars coming out at the same time and boy, can still vividly recall just how _cranky_ they were at the time. But who wouldn't with three teeth pushing through your gums at the same time? 
> 
> While I don't see Yodadile showing that much displeasure towards the world as that kid did, it's the little things that would show his displeasure at getting more teeth. And those little things are big enough for Din to become worried about his little womp rat's health. But don't worry, he will find out the reason for Yodadile's discomfort soon enough. I originally thought about writing a bit more, to have a scene, where Din finds out just what is going on but I couldn't really move past the scene, where he helps the kid fall asleep. 
> 
> Also, toddlers have the most amazing ability to give you the stink eye, if they decide so. It's absolutely hilarious.
> 
> ... This is my first Star Wars-fic. I just realised that.


End file.
